Tag: murder

There’s a blurred line between truth and fiction that you don’t want to cross.

Alexander sat at his desk, his fingers pounding away on the keyboard. After days of trying to figure out this one particular passage of his novel, he finally knew how he wanted to end it. The theme to “The Twilight Zone” trilled from his left, startling him and effectively ending his momentum on the story.

“Dammit,” he cursed, shoving papers around the desk in his search for his cell. He snatched it and clumsily hit talk just as the phone finished its final pre-voicemail ring.… Read the rest

Sadie shivered in the falling snow, hands dug deep in the pockets of her mangy leopard print coat, hungrily eyeing the cars curb-crawling the Strip. Music boomed inside the titty bar behind her, the black tinted window quaking to the bass. She’d danced there herself when she first hit the Strip, before she was busted turning tricks between lap dances to feed her habit. Now she was lucky if they let her inside to slam back a shot to wash away the taste of her last john.

An ancient green station wagon tootled up to the curb, the exhaust farting fumes.… Read the rest

From the distance, the farm looked almost invisible. Just a slightly uneven line of lighter tan against the earth tones of the mountains. Only as I approached it, my rental car bumping and lurching over the rough ground, did the details become apparent, and then I began to feel kind of jumpy. I’d decided earlier to keep as positive a frame of mind as I could, but as I got closer that resolve began to melt away.

Up close, the place looked just about as desolate and Godforsaken as I’d expected.… Read the rest

“Diplomacy is to do and say / the nastiest thing in the nicest way.”—Isaac Goldberg

She was a single mother from a micro-town in southwest Virginia who’d never had a single lucky break until she landed a job as secretary at the French Embassy in D.C. At least, she believed it was her lucky break. That was Leanne Coonts’s greatest mistake.

Now, her little daughter was an orphan and Leanne’s body was lying in a morgue awaiting an autopsy, while the Embassy staff remained tight-lipped, waving their diplomatic passports in the faces of police.… Read the rest

I remember everything about that night: the truth, the terror, the luck, and the lies. Someday I want to forget.

As always, Larry’s Tavern was dark and dank as a moldy cellar. A woman sitting at one end of the bar had hiccups. A leathery, trailer park grandma in a frizzy red sweater, she kept herself company with big gulps of bourbon and ginger ale. A stocky boomer guy slumped at the other end of the bar, wearing a gaudy blue golf shirt with a shiny brown sport coat.… Read the rest